


buried

by anonone



Series: Knowing and unknowing [5]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Bondage, Claustrophobia, Creeper Elias Bouchard, Dom/sub, Forced Nudity, Gags, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Orgasm, Torture, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:07:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24291058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonone/pseuds/anonone
Summary: “All other senses must be blocked in order for your connection with eye to be heightened,” his demeanour was calm, as if what he’d said was perfectly sufficient explanation for everything that was happening. He pushed Jon further into the box. Jon thrashed, desperately pulling against the straps, skin already torn, “Elias what the bloody hell do you think your playing at?” He was trying for intimidation but his voice came out shaky, tinged with delicious fear that sent blood straight to Elias’s crotch,
Series: Knowing and unknowing [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1738594
Kudos: 48





	buried

As he fluttered back to consciousness the first thing Jon became aware of was the sensation of rough leather being pulled across his forehead, the second was that he was naked, Elias loomed over him, running a gentle hand through Jon’s hair, “shhh, you weren’t supposed to wake up yet,” embarrassment flushed Jon’s face, he instinctively tried to cover himself but found his arms pinned tightly to his sides, panic built in his chest, he really didn’t like the way Elias was looking at him, like he was a piece of meat for sale. He thrashed about as best he could, desperate to escape the tight embrace of the straps.  
“No matter, it just means you’re powers are growing faster than we could have hoped,” Elias held a gag in front of Jon's face, “am I going to need this?” Jon frantically tried to shake his strapped down head but could only give terrified silence in response. It seemed to appease Elias, who put the gag down and admired his work, his naked archivist trapped before him, strapped tight to the table. “Such a good boy,” he stroked and shushed Jon, who lay staring at the ceiling in stunned silence unable to do anything but let it happen. Jarringly, the section of ceiling his eyes had been fixed on moved, disorientated, he began to really take in his surroundings, he cast his eyes downwards and saw his feet being slid into what looked terrifyingly like a morgue drawer, inch by slow, painful inch. Elias, who seemed to be almost savouring the tension growing within the archivist, didn’t seem the least bit in a hurry. Jon pressed down the wave of panic rising in his stomach.  
“...E-Elias,” he almost didn’t dare ask, “what are you doing?”  
“All other senses must be blocked in order for your connection with eye to be heightened,” his demeanour was perfectly calm, as if what he’d said was sufficient explanation for everything that was happening. He pushed Jon further into the box. Jon thrashed, desperately pulling against the straps, skin already torn, “Elias what the bloody hell do you think your playing at?” He was trying for intimidation but his voice came out shaky, tinged with delicious fear that sent blood straight to Elias’s crotch, overcome with a thirst for fresh fear and more than a hint of arousal, he leaned over Jon and lapped the terror straight from his tongue, ignoring the muffled screams of protest as he forced his way into his archivist’s helpless mouth, meanwhile pushing him further into the box. He finally ripped himself away from Jon, leaving the latter gasping and spluttering.  
He gave Jon a moment to collect himself before pushing him further in, enjoying the fear radiating from him. “Elias please.” silence, a sinister grin spread across Elias’s face, another inch, “Elias I cant go in there!” desperation clouded Jon’s eyes, Still no answer, another inch further, “please! Please don’t put me in there!” The box slid shut with a resounding click. Jon's voice was ragged as he begged “No no no please don’t leave me in here please please Elias no no no no,” terror washed over the archivist in deafening waves, he couldn’t think of anything but the dark and the walls that seemed to be closing in on him, pinning him to the table, pressing the walls of his lungs together. pleading Cries morphed into uncontrolled screams as the panic took over. He thrashed until his body and throat were bleeding and horse. It was too dark, too close, he couldn’t breathe, all encompassing fear crushing his lungs, his brain, he couldn’t think, couldn’t see, he'd die in here, he wouldn't die in here, he didn't know which was worse.  
From outside the box Elias listened to the archivists screams turn to frantic, pleading sobs until he cried himself to exhaustion, begging the whole time for Elias to “please let him out! please! he’ll be a good boy he’ll do anything!” Elias frantically palmed himself over his suit pants, the arousal unexpected but not entirely unwelcome. As he stroked himself he turned his eye inside the container to the exhausted archivist still pathetically attempting to struggle against his bonds. Finally unable to scream any more, Jon let out a tiny, pathetic whimper, sending Elias over the edge. He spent the rest of the afternoon planning future punishments, he'd be lying if he said it was entirely for the eyes benefit.


End file.
